


A Miracle on Elm Street

by Magus_Kuro



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types, a nightmare - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, Crack, Millenials killing the nightmare industry, No I haven't actually ever seen a Nightmare on Elm Street
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:04:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magus_Kuro/pseuds/Magus_Kuro
Summary: Four millennials find a house to rent together a week before Christmas. Given the housing market, a house with a demon is still a steal. The landlord insists demon is not a bug, but a feature. Landlord neglected to mention actual bugs.





	1. For Unto Us a Dream is Born, Unto us a Nightmare Given

The landlord said there weren’t a lot of people house hunting the week before Christmas. That was probably true, but what was also true was that were really weren’t a lot of options for four people in the weeks leading up to the holidays. So here they were, Jeremiah, Luke, Cassidy and Shannon, moving into a ramshackle house that the owner swore he would make fixes to after the first of the year. While none of them really believed him, the rent was within their price point and there weren’t any glaring red flags about the property itself. It was their best option in a terrible market.

It took most of the day to move their things into the house. By the time they’d finished it was well after dark and three out of the four of them had work the next day. So Shannon, who wasn’t working, went out and got cheap pizza, pineapple juice and a large bottle of rum while the others presumably got ready for work since they were planning to get shitfaced and would be too hung over in the morning to remember their own names, let alone whether or not they needed to pack themselves a lunch.

And when Shannon got back, get shitfaced they did. Luke poured the rum, pineapple juice and some grenadine they had into a large mixing bowl to make a cheap rum punch. About three sips into it, though, Cassidy made a face and left. When she returned moments later, she was holding another bottle.

“I didn’t work Black Friday at Walmart after getting an eviction notice to drink liquor store discount hooch,” she announced as she upended a half-full bottle of Johnny Walker into the mixing bowl.

Needless to say they were all drunk fairly soon afterwards.

Later, when they were good and smashed, they were sitting around the dining room card table, chewing on the last of the pizza crusts and talking before their boozy cocktail carried any of them off.

“I’m so glad we got this place,” Jeremiah said, staring up at the ceiling, a half empty cup perched on a box beside him. “And at a price we could afford! Between car payments and student loans, I thought we were going to end up out on the streets for sure.”

“Man, I can’t believe we didn’t have to beat off hoards of renters at that price, even if the place _is_ a little janky,” Cassidy said, shaking her head.

“Is ‘cause the place is haunted,” Shannon slurred. She threw up her hands when she saw the look the others were giving her. “Wait, wait, not even shitting you. I saw it online. People said there was a demon. Lot of unexplained deaths an stuff.”

“Actually, the unexplained deaths themselves would drive the price down,” Luke said. “We should check on carbon monoxide…stuff tomorrow.”

“Besides, what could a demon do that could possibly be worse than a racist angry customer out to make your life hell?” Cassidy asked.

“No, no, listen,” Shanon insisted. “The demon makes your worst nightmares come true, and then if you die in the dream you die in real life.”

“Ooooh, so a district manager,” Jeremiah said, taking another swig of his drink. “I had one that really had it in for me once. Said I wasn’t moving enough product or signing enough contracts or something. And I’m like, I work at the mall. Not even in a store, one of the kiosks in the middle, what do you expect, man?”

Luke laughed. “I’ll bet he wasn’t too happy to hear that.”

“Nah, he made my life a living hell,” Jeremiah said. He made a face. “He couldn’t just fire me, though. Or that’s what I figured later. Anyway, I need to get to bed or I’m never getting up in the morning.”

He levered himself up out of the chair and staggered the few steps to his bedroom door. The others were close behind him, all in varying states of inebriation. They left the plastic cups and pizza boxes on the table to clean up in the morning. Or maybe the next night. The point was they were too drunk to care about cleaning. They were also too drunk to spot the ominous silhouette that appeared in the doorway to the kitchen as they left to pass out in a drunken stupor for the night. They were unconscious as quickly and deeply as only drunk people can be. Luke did have one final though about carbon monoxide flit through his mind before passing out, but it wasn’t anything solid enough to latch onto. He’d remember it in the morning, he told himself. It was a lie, of course, but then most things the drunk tell themselves are.

Elsewhere, the landlord lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was telling himself it was okay, he didn’t need to feel guilty. The rumors were, of course, just that, rumors. He had no reason to feel bad about renting the house to a bunch of kids who wouldn’t be able to defend themselves against any demons that might or might not crop up in their dreams. Haha, demons. Like there were any such thing. He was a rational man. Of course he didn’t believe in demons. He also knew he needed the rent money or he was going to lose the house to the bank. The kids were only paying just above that, enough that in a few months he might actually be able to make some improvements to the old place. So why did he have such a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry Freddy only made a very brief cameo in this chapter. He'll definitely show up more in the following chapters. This crack fic was spawned by a late night conversation that neither of us can remember.


	2. Deck the Halls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah's Dream

The mall was always poorly lit, but never more so than right before closing time. When the customers were gone, they turned down the lights to conserve electricity. Of course the shops all kept their lights on while their people were closing up, but all Jeremiah had was the shitty cart light that was barely strong enough for him to finish up the night’s paperwork. He squinted at the sheet in front of him and the characters blurred and seemed to swirl in front of his eyes. Pausing, he pressed the palms of his hands against his eye sockets and groaned. Overhead he could hear the crackle of terrible Christmas music still playing.

“God damn it,” he muttered. “If I have to hear Mariah Carey one more time I swear I’m going to go postal on someone.”

When he finally removed his hands and opened his eyes, it was darker than it had been moments before. The lights of the other shops had gone out. Even his own kiosk was dark except for the display sign. It wasn’t bright enough to illuminate anything but the barest of shapes, bathing the world in pink and black silhouettes.

“Damn it! I’m still in here!” he yelled as he fumbled for his phone. It was caught on his pants pocket and he couldn’t see to figure out how. “I’ve just got a little more paperwork and then I can leave! Turn the fucking lights back on!”

There was someone approaching his kiosk. He could make out the sound of shoes scuffing the linoleum. The person was humming, but he couldn’t make it out over the buzz of the display sign. Finally he managed to yank the phone from his pocket and turned on the flashlight. His battery life was at 1%. The glimpse he got before it died was short and impressionistic. A man in a striped shirt, wearing a hat, elongated fingers and a weird skin condition. Whoever he was, he didn’t work there.

“Sir, the mall is closed,” he called out, feeling dumb as he said it. No shit the mall was closed, the lights were out and the shops had their gates pulled. “Sir, you need to leave or I’ll have to call security.”

 _On what phone?_ a voice whispered in his mind. It then helpfully added, _And you haven’t even locked up the money for the night._

Jeremiah swore under his breath and started trying to shove all of his paperwork into the night deposit bag. There was no way in hell he was going to try to explain to his manager how he stayed late and got robbed by a homeless guy with psoriasis.

The man was almost to the kiosk now. The pink glow of the sign touched him, and Jeremiah could see just enough to be afraid. The elongated fingers he saw earlier were knives. He had a fist full of knives. And what he’d thought was a skin condition looked more like the craters of the moon now. Where the skin showed he could see thin lines of pink and deep wells of darkness. The man’s eyes reflected unnaturally back at Jeremiah.

None of that, however, was what made Jeremiah freeze. The man was finally close enough he could hear what he was singing.

“-All I want for Christmas is you!” the man sang, then laughed.

Whatever response the man was expecting, it probably wasn’t unbridled fury. The fear present only a moment before evaporated, leaving only rage. Jeremiah grabbed the T-Mobile display sign with both hands and threw his weight against it. There was a loud crack and the he staggered back, glowing sign in hand.

Freddy tried to get a swing in at Jeremiah, but unfortunately for him, knife hands don’t have quite the range as a sign. He staggered back after the first blow landed. The second knocked him to the floor. He let the kid pummel him, waiting, making it appear as though he were seriously injured or dead. He watched for the moment of relief, when the kid would let the anger go and be susceptible to fear again. That moment never came. The blows just kept raining down without pause or hesitation. 

Though he tried several times to get the kid to look away or do anything besides hit him, nothing worked. Annoyed and baffled by rage that surpassed anything he’d experienced outside of a full fledged demon, Freddy decided to call it quits with this one for tonight. It wasn’t something he did often. Usually leaving meant he was playing with his prey, but clearly this kid had anger management issues and needed to cool off before anything else happened.

And so, Freddy Krueger left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but this is a crack fic. I'm pretty sure this is the scenario that made me realize that yes, I was going to write this. I did watch a few "death scenes" on youtube. Some people in the long series actually do try to fight back with weapons, and it works. Sort of. You can harm Freddy, but the moment you think you've won, he strikes back. Also he cheats with close range combat. And anyway, I don't care, this is a crack fic.


	3. Away in a Manager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassidy's Dream

Electronic screens flickered Christmas imagery around the camera display. Across the aisle were the televisions, all tuned to the same strange pink display. A black snowflake made of phones drifted down the screen. Once per fall the phones blinked the same scene of a yule fire. Cassidy did her best to ignore both the awful ad and the Christmas music that crackled over the speakers overhead. Ugh, Mariah Carey again. Obviously she wasn’t doing a good job at ignoring either.

“All I want for Christmas is booze,” she whispered along with the song.

“Excuse me, young lady!”

Cassidy looked up and realized she’d somehow missed a woman approaching. She winced internally and turned on her brightest customer service smile. The woman scowled back at her. She looked to be in her mid forties and had a I-was-a-soccermom-ten-years-ago haircut and long manicured nails.

“How can I help you today, ma’am?” Cassidy asked.

“First off you can apologize and promise to be far more professional! I have never heard such crudeness in this store before,” she said, stabbing one nail in the air. “What if a child had heard? This is a family store, after all!”

Cassidy wanted to tell her that she’d obviously never been in the back of any retail store ever or she’d know a reference to wanting a beer was the least of anyone’s worries. Despite the almost overwhelming urge, she bit back the words and kept the smile firmly fixed on her face. 

“You’re right, I am very sorry and it won’t happen again,” she said. “Is there something else I can help you with this evening?”

"Well yes," the woman said, tapping a long, pointed nail against a DVD case. "I want both of these, and I want them in blueray."

"May I see what you have, ma'am?" Cassidy asked. She held out a hand.

Instead of giving her the DVDs, the woman held them up, one in each hand.

 _Magic Mike, I should have fucking known,_ Cassidy thought. She sighed internally and moved to her computer to search the store inventory.

As she was typing, the woman said. “I need them in blueray. DVD just doesn’t cut it. I’m hosting a girl’s night in Christmas Eve and I have to have them. The blueray _quality_ is just so superior on a big screen TV, don’t you think?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we seem to be completely out of stock,” Cassidy said. “In fact, the two you are holding seem to be the only two in the entire store.”

“Are you telling me I drove all the way out here for nothing?” the woman shrilled, throwing her DVDs onto the counter hard enough to crack at least one of the cases. She slapped down the palms of her hands, her stiletto nails dangerously close to Cassidy. “Are you telling me you aren’t going to get me what I want? What happened to the customer is always right?!”

“I’m sorry ma’am. We’re completely out here, but I can order it for you if you would like and you can pick it up here in store. We can even email or text you when your order arrives,” Cassidy said, taking a step back.

The black snowflakes framed the woman, the yule fires burning constantly now. “Not good enough!” she yelled. It suddenly sounded like she might have the beginnings of a cold. “I want my bluerays, and I want them today! I don’t care if you have to have someone drive them over from another store, I want them in my hand before I leave this store!”

"Again, I am sorry, ma'am, but that is just not possible. There is still some time. We could have the movies shipped to your home," Cassidy offered.

"Not good enough!" They growled, their voice deepening. It looked like their makeup was running. A ferocious grin covered their face, intense and unpleasant. "I want to speak to a manager."

There was a moment of silence before Cassidy started laughing. Around her the cameras displays changed, one by one showing a different laughing employee of the entertainment chain. Her own smile matched the customer’s.

“I am the manager.”

The words rolled smoothly off her tongue, though she could count on one hand the number of times she’d actually gotten to say them. Around her the camera employees whispered to each other: Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager. Ooooh, oh dear, she wants to speak to a manager! Oh dear!

The laughter intensified and the yule fire from the televisions spilled out of the TVs onto the floor, flooding the store with hellfire. Several of the camera employees wiggled free of their electronic confines, transformed into demonic imps.

The customer finished transforming into Freddy Krueger while watching the spectacle. He was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he should leave and come back later. This girl was full of almost as much rage as the other one, and the whole hellfire and demons thing was a little disconcerting.

After a brief consideration, he decided to move on to easier prey for the moment. And someone who smelled a little less like brimstone.

“You got some fucked up dreams, kid,” he said as he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a certain comic you might have seen: https://imgur.com/gallery/vPoiE . Cassidy has sure seen it, and read it often enough that she's let it crop up in her dreams. Meanwhile Freddy is wondering who the hell let a young demon lord out of hell and let them work customer service. Or maybe that's just how all young demon lords get their training.
> 
> A special thanks to MittensMcEdgelord for their help with the chapter.


	4. I Saw Three Shits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shannon's Dream

The end of her shift couldn't get there soon enough. In a ranking of bad days, this one hit rock bottom and started digging. It was easily one of worst days Shannon had ever worked at the department store. It started with a creepy old man leering at her for more than an hour as she tried to help other customers in the packed store. She wasn't sure what made her she notice him, but something about the weird way shadows fell on his face made him stand out to her. That was also how she recognized him as the same man when he came over to her later.

"I wasn't staring at your chest," he said. "I just couldn't help admiring your necklace. It's just so pretty and long."

She murmured a thanks while trying not to look like she wanted to take a shower. When she mentioned him to her supervisor, though, he didn't think it was a big deal.

"Don't worry about it," Chad the asshole said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "You're just so pretty men feel like they have to stare."

"I see," she said, sliding out of his grasp.

It was time to go to HR. The last time she'd bitched about work to Cassidy, her friend had been surprised Shannon hadn't been to Human Resources already. The problem was, Shannon was pretty sure she knew what to expect.

"Well," said Todd, the predictable HR asshole, when Shannon brought it up to him a while later. "Perhaps if you didn't wear such low cut shirts, this wouldn't happen. I'm actually surprised no one has said anything to you about your appearance. We want to maintain a professional appearance here. It's even in the dress code."

"I picked this blouse up from the business professional section here at the store," Shannon murmured, staring at her hands.

"Well obviously it was meant to be worn with something under it," Todd said, looking her over. "And perhaps pick up a new pair of pants. Those are a bit too tight. Honestly, your generation is just so sloppy."

"May I go, sir?" she asked after a moment.

"Yes, yes. And please find something to go under your shirt while you're on lunch break," he said, waving her away.

Humiliated and still creeped out, she spent the rest of her shift trying to avoid Chad or any leering old men. For the most part she was successful. At least she was until the very end of her shift. As she was getting ready to clock out, she saw Chad filling out paperwork next to the time clock. She winced and tried to ignore him. Unfortunately he didn’t want to be ignored.

“Oh, there you are!” he said as she came closer to punch out. 

“Hi Chad,” she said, swiping her card. “I’m really sorry but I can’t stay and chat. I need to get home so I can do some stuff before I get ready to come in tomorrow.”

“Oh no worries,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know that your friend was asking about you this afternoon. He wanted me to tell you hi.”

“My friend?” she asked, wondering if it was Jeremiah or Luke off today, but they were, to the best of her knowledge, both working.

Chad nodded. “Yeah, the older gentleman you were talking to earlier. He wanted to say hi and was wondering where you were. I told him you were at lunch right then, but he could come back later until right about now to say hi. I guess he didn’t find you.”

“Wait, you told a complete stranger when I get off from work?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice even.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he said with a shrug. “Why?”

Somehow she managed not to say something about serial killers and murders; she was trying very hard to be positive and not paranoid. “It’s not safe. That guy could be anyone. I don’t know him.”

“You seemed to really be charming him this afternoon,” Chad said. “I’ll bet he thought you were flirting.”

“It’s called doing my job,” Shannon said as she angrily shoved the time card back into her wallet. “I have to make everyone like me in customer service. I don’t flirt with anyone while I’m at work, least of all creepy old men.”

“Hey now, that’s a very unprofessional thing to say about our customers.”

“He didn’t buy anything. And anyway, I’m off the clock. Goodnight, Chad.” She counted to ten as she left, biting back all the other things she really wanted to say. Only by reminding herself that she actually wanted her job more than she wanted to say those things was she able to make it out the door.

She chanted “I like getting paid” to herself all the way to the doors that led out of the mall to the employee parking area. For a night so close to Christmas, the place was strangely deserted. She was the only one parked so close to the building, the only other cars were half the lot away. And she was parked in shadows. The tree she’d parked under for shade that morning was now blocking the lamp lights, casting her car in darkness. There was something in those shadows.

The knowledge bubbled up from her subconscious and she turned to go back inside. Maybe one of the security guards would be around to do their job for once and walk her to her car. Before she could take more than a step toward the door, though, she heard him.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think you’d never get here.” Yeah, she knew that voice. Unfortunately.

“Go away,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. She turned. “I said go away, you old pervert!”

“Now is that any way to talk to a customer?” he asked, moving out of the shadows.

She was quite sure he was the same man, but the strange shadows on his face had deepened, and she paused in her analysis and blinked. Were those fucking knives on his hands?

“You have got to be shitting me.”

“Now, now, my dear,” he said, chuckling. “It’s okay to run and scream, I’m going to make this as painful as possible…”

But she wasn’t thinking about running. She was thinking about all the horror movies she saw as a teen, and how it didn’t matter how fast you ran from the comical villain, they always got you in the end. She was thinking that the door to the mall was probably already locked. And she was thinking about how years ago she’d decided if shit ever hit the fan, she wasn’t going to die with a bullet in her back. Or a knife. 

So she did what came naturally and grabbed a sandwich board advertising T-Mobile from the sidewalk beside her - _was that there a moment ago?_ \- and hit him as hard as she could.

She managed to knock his hat off. She could see his face was as cratered as the surface of the moon. A tiny part of her felt sorry for him, but before she could lower her sandwich board weapon, someone else stepped out of the shadows.

“Give him another one for me!” Cassidy shouted. “You better believe that old bastard tried to put his hands on one of my coworkers today!”

The sympathy disappeared, replaced by anger and realization. This wasn’t real, no one actually wore knife hands in public. This was an attempted nightmare, but she wasn’t going to let it happen. 

“Fuck you!” she yelled at Freddy as he started to get up, slamming the sandwich board into his head. “Fuck you and fuck Chad and fuck Todd and fuck every fucking manager who lets fucking people treat service workers like fucking shit!”

She hit him every time she said the word fuck. The board felt light as a feather in her hands and swearing at a pervert-serial killer-nightmare in a darkened parking lot while beating them with a sign was a huge adrenaline rush - _can you get adrenaline rushes when you’re asleep?_

“Yeah girl, you tell him!” Cassidy cheered, while circling them, camera phone out and recording. “You give that asshole what’s coming to him!”

Freddy had had enough, he decided as he melted into the pavement. He’d sensed the shift into lucid dreaming the moment it had happened. That he could have dealt with. It was the appearance of the other girl that concerned him. Had she actually entered her friend’s dream or was her personality just strong enough that the girl had conjured her as an advocate and ally. Either scenario would be tricky for him. Better to let her cool off and try again later with a different fear. He couldn’t help but wonder, though, was something seriously wrong with these kids?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far both the longest chapter so far. It will probably retain that title as this is, in fact a crack fic. While there is an unfortunate amount of autobiographical information included in this chapter, please know that I have never actually beaten someone with a sandwich board. I swear.
> 
> A special thanks to NineEyes for their help beta-ing my mess.


	5. Jingle Bell Wok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's Dream

The lunch rush was over, if you could call that a rush. Honestly he knew he’d only been so busy because it was just him trying to fulfill all the orders while keeping the food stocked and fresh. It seemed like everyone wanted orange chicken today. Luke looked at the pile of dishes he needed to clean before the dinner rush and grimaced. His boss would be all over him if he saw this; health code violations were about the only thing that made the man give more than two shits about the place. Even something that could be misconstrued as an infraction was dealt with quickly and harshly. 

He started piling up all the dirty kitchen equipment while continually keeping an eye on the food court for lunchtime stragglers. Fortunately the only things he saw moving were the animated T-Mobile display signs that lived on the other side of the wall of fake food court shrubbery. Shitty Christmas music played on the overhead speakers. God he was tired of Mariah Carey.

It wasn't like he could do anything differently, either, he thought with annoyance as he put things onto a rolling cart. The store was chronically short staffed. His boss claimed it was corporate's demands to cut costs, but they were also the ones that told them what food to buy, how much to get and how much staff there was supposed to be at any one time. Someone's numbers were off somewhere, and it meant he was alone all day today.

That's what was on his mind as he wheeled the cart full of disgusting woks back to the kitchen. Two of the three overhead lights were out in the back, and the last one was flickering on it's way out. Maintenance was either too busy or didn't care enough to come by despite work orders and he sure hadn't had time to dig up a ladder and bulbs to change the things himself. He probably would have to soon, though.

"Hey, hello! Anyone here?"

Swearing under his breath, Luke hastily wiped his hands and hurried back out front. And there, in front of the counter was not the customer he was expecting, but someone who he vaguely recognized as maybe a district manager. The man was wearing a hat and the most atrociously striped tie Luke had ever seen.

"Hello, sir," he said in a carefully neutral tone. He managed to keep his eyes off the work area that still needed to be cleaned. 

Unfortunately the DM was looking, even if he wasn't. "Why is it so filthy in here?" he demanded without preamble.

"I'm sorry sir," he said. "The lunch rush only just ended and I was just-"

"Just dawdling in the back while we rack up health code violations! What if I'd been a health inspector?" he demanded, getting up close to Luke and jabbing a dagger like finger into his chest. "We could have been closed down, and you'd be out of a job. What would you do then, huh, bright boy?"

Grimacing, Luke looked around. It was worse than he remembered from a few minutes ago. Actually, it was a lot worse. How was it this bad? "I-I'm sorry sir," he stammered.

"Sorry nothing! You know what I would do to your sorry ass if you got this place shut down? Huh?” He jabbed him again. “Maybe I wouldn’t fire you. Maybe I’d sue you for everything this place is worth and all the revenue I’d lose. Then I’d make you work it off. With interest.” His face seemed to be slowly changing, his nose growing sharper and his skin more drawn. “I’d own you for the rest of your life.”

Luke felt his hand closing on the handle last clean wok, though somehow between his inspection and now it had developed a thin film of oil. “If I wanted to drown in debt for the rest of my life with nothing to show for it, I would have been an English major in college. And one more thing. I haven’t worked in this shithole for years.”

He swung the wok as hard as he could at Freddy’s head and succeeded in knocking him down onto the floor. Out in the food court the T-Mobile signs ambled past the fake plant wall on their way into the seating area. He hit the guy he was sure wasn’t actually a district manager with the wok again.

“You know what, you fear mongering asshole? You’re about a decade too late to frighten me,” he hit the guy again. “I’ve stared the worst in the face and I made it through. Maybe this place has some really bad memories, but trust me, you aren’t the worst.”

Freddy could feel it, the anger in this one was short lived, a flash in the pan. He had him. He’d take him from behind or…oh what the hell were those?!

T-Mobile signs moved in around him, grabbing him in steely frames, ripped loose from the bases to act as limbs.

“Oh what the hell?!” he squawked, trying to pull away. He was a nightmare, a creature of fear. This should _not_ be happening! But it was. The fear that should have fed him all night just wasn’t there and he was _weak_. “Let go of me!”

There were more people in the dream now. He could see them grinning at him in the seats. They were the other three of the house hold, the ones he hadn’t managed to kill. That was when he truly knew he was in trouble. 

The signs blinked together in wordless pink and black unison as they dragged him across the seating area to the large fountain at the center of the food court. He tried all his tricks to fight the creatures: drugs or stabbings or anything really, but there were no weaknesses. He couldn’t fight them. They were dreamstuff, not living, and definitely not killable. They felt like they were made of metal and forged anger. Behind them, the four housemates followed. They were silent, watching.

“SHIT!” he screamed as the signs pushed him into the fountain and held him down.

Somehow there was a sound in the fountain that he could hear over even his own thrashing. Christmas music was playing over these improbable speakers. “All I want for Christmas is you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next to last chapter, though the last chapter will be more like an epilogue.
> 
> A big shout out to MittensMcEdgelord and NineEyes for their help with this one.


End file.
